


Walking on a Wire

by sleepypercy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Bottom Dean, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, Gift Fic, Lolita!Dean, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny had, of course, noticed how obscenely beautiful Dean was, although he'd never planned on doing anything about it. Dean, however, doesn't seem to know how to leave things alone.<br/>(Set in 16-year-old Dean flashbacks from Episode 9x07: Bad Boys)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking on a Wire

**Author's Note:**

> So I wasn't planning on posting this (I have this fear that someone's gonna judge me super hard). But I wrote this for my friend [containerpark ](http://containerpark.livejournal.com/) (LJ) who wanted to read Sonny/Dean and couldn't find it anywhere, and I figured if, in a random crazy happenstance, someone else wanted to read this pairing, I'd go ahead and post so it's out there.

Sonny had seen the way Dean had flushed at his praise, proud of himself for achievements he’d obviously thought were never an option with the way he’d lived. Dean didn’t talk much about where he’d come from, but Sonny knew whatever life Dean had led before coming to the boys home, it hadn’t been an easy one. Nor had it allowed for simple, regular teenage experiences like sports and school dances.  
  
As they left the diner, Sonny couldn’t resist cupping his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and squeezing lightly, needing an outlet to express his pleasure at seeing Dean fall so naturally into a normal, healthy life.  
  
The boy ducked his head as a pleased grin spilled across his face then turned to study Sonny from the side, his eyes framed by lashes thick enough to fan a shadow over those bright green irises. A passing appreciation of Dean’s beauty shuddered guiltily inside Sonny, although he tried to stonewall that thought before it went too far. But the edges of the boy’s mouth twitched, as if he were aware of the war going on inside Sonny’s mind. Dean’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, slower than seemed necessary, before he dragged his lower lip under his teeth, letting his spit shine lips that were fuller and pinker than those of any girl Sonny had ever met.  
  
Sonny jerked his hand back – maybe a bit too quickly, judging by Dean’s startled jolt. Too shaken to come up with a convincing explanation, Sonny avoided Dean’s eyes and reached down to open the car door.  
  
He didn’t, however, fail to notice Dean’s thoughtful expression during the car ride, nor the way Dean kept darting glances at Sonny, eyes burning like a brand every time they grazed across his face.  
  
*&*  
  
Sonny had his hands full when they got back, making sure all the boys got their chores and homework done for the night. He tried to push aside the awkward moment with Dean, hoping they’d both forget about it in a couple of days.  
  
It was only a few hours later that Dean found Sonny sweeping inside the barn. One of the newer boys had helped out with the animal feeding that day and had been sloppy about it, creating a mess that trailed all the way from the animal stalls to the back storage area.  
  
Sonny was in the middle of pushing the scattered feed across the floor with a broom when he heard light footsteps and a quiet, “Hey.”  
  
He looked up to see Dean standing across the space, his hands shoved in his leather jacket and his hair carefully styled into messy bed-head spikes. The boy looked nervous, although he was trying to hide it. But the flush on his cheekbones gave him away, as did the involuntary twitch on the corners of his lips. Some vague anxiety churned Sonny’s stomach, jagged and fast like rototiller blades, causing him to turn away and resume sweeping.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping with the dinner dishes?” he asked, a little too sharply.  
  
“They’re finished,” Dean calmly answered.  
  
“Homework?” he grunted out, slamming the broom harder into the floor and refusing to turn around.  
  
The response came just inches behind his elbow, startling Sonny enough to make him drop the broom, the clatter loud and shattering in the quiet barn. _Shit_ , Dean sure knew how to sneak up on a guy.  
  
“It’s done. You checked it earlier. Remember?” Dean said, looking vaguely amused at Sonny’s clumsiness.  
  
Cursing under his breath, Sonny started to bend down to reach for the broom, but Dean beat him to it – the kid had some lightning-quick reflexes – pulling it off the floor and leaning into the handle.  
  
“You want some help?” Dean asked, and this time Sonny couldn’t help looking into that young face, eyes darting across smooth cheekbones and the delicate scattering of freckles that all-but begged for a fingertip to connect into constellations.  
  
Trying not to sound angry, Sonny shook his head and gave Dean a firm, “No. No, I’ve got this. You can hand over the broom then head back up to the house.”  
  
Dean frowned and tightened his hands around the handle, which was still butted up in the groove in the middle of his chest. “Okay,” he said with a small shrug, his eyes narrowed. “You can take it back, if you want it.”  
  
Sonny waited for Dean to back off and hand over the broom, but Dean just stood there, chin tilted up in a challenging motion.  
  
Quickly tired of whatever game the boy was playing, Sonny sighed and grabbed the handle, his fingers sliding against Dean’s chest as Dean continued leaning forward. When Sonny yanked the broom towards him, Dean let go easily with a small smile on his face that Sonny didn’t trust.  
  
He was right to doubt that smile.  
  
Taking a step forward, Dean pushed himself uncomfortably close to Sonny, putting a hand back on the handle of the broom as his eyes glanced up at the older man from underneath damnably-thick lashes.  
  
“I know you want me,” he said, face serious and assessing as he watched Sonny’s jaw tighten uncomfortably. “Believe me, I know the signs. You don’t need to feel guilty because I get it. I trust you. And I… I want to do this.” Dean licked his lips again then leaned in, intent clear on his face.  
  
Before Dean could get too close, Sonny shoved the end of the broom handle into Dean’s chest and growled out, “You don’t know _what_ you want, kid. Or what you’re offering. Fuck, you’ve only known me a month. Do you know what kind of monsters are out there? Men that would happily take advantage in ways you’re not prepared for? You can’t go throwing yourself into this like it’s nothing.”  
  
Something heated flashed behind Dean’s eyes, making Sonny wonder again at the kind of life he’d lived before coming here.  
  
“I know exactly what kind of monsters are out there,” Dean answered, voice low and dangerous, and Sonny absolutely believed him. “I’m not a child. I don’t know if I ever was. And if you’re worried about your reputation or the law, _don’t_. I don’t go running my mouth off about things like this. And it’s not like anyone would believe me even if I did.”  
  
That strange mixture of cockiness and self-disregard had fascinated Sonny from the moment he’d met Dean, when he’d recognized all the desperation and insecurity radiating off the boy, that deep-rooted need for Dean to prove he could handle himself in an adult world. Sonny didn’t doubt that Dean had seen a lot of scary-ass things in his life, and he didn’t doubt that Dean knew how to take care of himself. But regardless of what Dean may say, he was still a child in a very real way. And since Sonny didn’t know any other way to prove to Dean just how serious a thing he was offering, he decided to toss Dean right into the fire, scare some sense into him.  
  
Letting the broom fall to the floor, Sonny grabbed Dean by the shoulders and slammed him into the side of the stall, Dean’s teenage frame just small enough to tuck into the hard wooden side. Ignoring the perverse thrill that ran through him at getting his hands on this stupidly beautiful boy, Sonny pressed himself tight against Dean’s compact body, locking Dean against the wall with his hips and hands. He grabbed at Dean’s jacket, yanking it through his arms then pulling off the thin t-shirt underneath. With his arms wrapped around Dean’s back, Sonny jerked the boy up so he could put his mouth on Dean’s chest, sucking and biting around Dean’s collarbone and shoulders.  
  
When Dean cocked his head to the side, revealing a smooth line of skin below his ear, Sonny moved his mouth up, nipping and biting across Dean’s neck then moving up the side of Dean’s face until he finally got a chance to cover that smartass, cocky mouth with his own.  
  
He’d wanted to scare Dean with the reality of what could be rough and impersonal, to prove that Dean wasn’t ready for this. What Sonny didn’t expect was for Dean to instinctively mold himself into whatever Sonny wanted, letting his body be thrown around like it was made for this. Sonny hadn’t imagined Dean would be this soft and willing and _eager_. The harder he shoved Dean into the unforgiving wooden wall, the more the kid whimpered and shivered and squirmed. At first Sonny had triumphantly assumed he’d gotten through to Dean; frightened him into realizing the cold reality of throwing himself at an older man. But when their legs finally shifted to slot them together, Sonny felt Dean’s hard erection jutting into his leg, and he realized that Dean was getting off on this. That he wanted more.  
  
So he pushed himself off Dean, angry that this hadn’t worked; that the only thing it had proved was that Sonny was a dirty pervert getting off on manhandling a teenage boy.  
  
He left Dean in the barn, refusing to look back because he had to get out of there before what little self-control he had left crumbled entirely.  
  
* &*  
  
Sonny managed to avoid Dean for three days. It wasn’t difficult; there weren’t a lot of chances for one-on-one time, not with a house full of boys with school work to check and never-ending chores to supervise.  
  
He knew Dean hadn’t forgotten, though. As often as possible, Dean would brush against Sonny, pushing himself into his side when they were in the kitchen, living room, hallway, yard. Then, before Sonny could even think to chew him out or swat him out of his space, Dean could smirk and roll himself away, eyes catching Sonny’s as he walked on, daring Sonny to say or do something.  
  
It wasn’t entirely a surprise when Sonny returned to his room one night, freshly showered with a towel slung around his hips, to find Dean waiting for him inside. He was, however, startled to find Dean waiting like _this_.  
  
The boy was lying belly down on top of Sonny’s bed, his legs kicked wide open while his hand reached back between his cheeks, three of his fingers working deep inside himself. Muted moans floated back from where Dean’s face was pressed into the mattress.  
  
Sonny was frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes away. The boy’s hole was squelching wet and worked into a deep, puffy pink that matched the salty flush running up the sides of Dean’s legs and across his back.  
  
Next to Dean’s knee was a bottle that Sonny recognized as belonging in his right-side dresser drawer, a quarter of its contents shining around Dean’s fingers and dripping down his arm.  
  
“What are you doing?” Sonny asked when he managed to shake himself back to awareness with a deep, unsteady inhalation.  
  
Dean glanced around his shoulders, fingers still working in and out at a pace that made his arm start to shake. His cheeks were stained red, although Sonny was sure it was more arousal than embarrassment.  
  
“Waiting for you,” Dean breathed out in a hoarse stutter, his eyes briefly squeezing shut when his fingers moved even further inside. “C’mon, Sonny. I trust you. I want you to fuck me. Please.”  
  
In all his years of overseeing a boys home, Sonny had never allowed himself to cross the line, even in thought. But Dean was… something else. Sonny had never met someone as tempting and as needy as this young man, all hard edges and broken glass wrapped inside soft, freckled skin and green eyes. And the thing was – Sonny felt like Dean really did need this; he needed to be touched and soothed and worshipped because words fell so pitifully short of making Dean believe he was actually worth anything.  
  
Shoving aside the last of his reservations and dropping his towel, Sonny walked to the edge of the bed and grabbed the hand Dean was using to open himself up with.  
  
He held onto that hand for a moment, angling Dean’s fingers to tug wider, pushing them a little deeper. Sonny’s other hand slid around the rim, and he marveled at how open Dean was, unable to resist pressing the tips of his own fingers into the edge of Dean’s stretched, sore hole already tight around the boy’s fingers. A whining, desperate sound grated up of Dean’s throat, and Sonny shivered at that pitch, lower and deeper than any sixteen year old had a right to sound. Sonny’s cock drooled out precome in response, and he reached down to gather it in his hand and slick it up the sides of his cock. He was already hard; had been from the moment he’d entered the room and saw Dean spread out on his bed like a fuckin’ gift that Sonny didn’t have the willpower to return.  
  
Sonny rubbed a hand up the side of Dean’s back, and Dean leaned into his open palm, perpetually touch-starved and shamelessly clinging to every physical form of affection. Between Dean’s thighs, Sonny could see his hard, untouched cock dribbling precome onto Sonny’s bedspread.  
  
“I’m going to fuck you,” Sonny said, leaning his cheek against the back of Dean’s head, and he felt a little dizzy at the sound of his own words said aloud. “Because I think you really want this, and I believe you can handle it. And maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I know better, but you’re the hottest thing to ever cross my bed, and I’m only human, Dean. But this is a one-time thing. That’s all I’m prepared to give here. You understand?”  
  
“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was still a register lower than normal, the gritty rasp of it vibrating low in Sonny’s belly. “I understand.”  
  
He tugged at Dean’s hand, feeling Dean’s chest shudder as soon as his fingers fell out and left his hole gaping and empty. It wasn’t more than a few seconds, however, before Sonny pushed his cock inside, and Dean swallowed him up, clenched around him so fast and tight that Sonny had to brace his hands on Dean’s hips, a small grunt jumping out his throat.  
  
Dean felt like an ocean underneath Sonny, rolling back into every thrust and grunting demands to be fucked harder when Sonny hesitated to push too hard.  
  
“C’mon, man,” Dean panted, voice up in a whine as he reached back to grab at Sonny’s thigh. “Not gonna break. Fuck me like you mean it.”  
  
When Sonny hooked an arm around Dean’s chest and started slamming hard and fast, giving Dean what he wanted, Dean groaned and let his face drop to the bedspread, sharp grunts punching out from somewhere deep in his chest. It wasn’t until Dean’s cries got louder that Sonny remembered how thin the walls were and how little privacy he had in this place.  
  
His hand clamped over Dean’s mouth, muffling shouts and covering heavy breathing, forcing his air to go in and out his nose. Reaching around Dean’s belly, Sonny groped downward, wrapping his hand around Dean’s stiff cock, dripping heavily with precome and lube that had trickled down. Dean’s moans intensified against Sonny’s palm as he stroked up and down the boy’s prick, spit leaking out the sides of Dean’s mouth and dripping between Sonny’s fingers.  
  
Sonny really hadn’t expected Dean to last long, not with the way the kid was writhing underneath him and especially not with his sixteen-year old hormones. Within minutes, Dean was shooting into Sonny’s palm, hips jutting forward as he exhaled into a deep orgasm, his teeth clenching around two of Sonny’s fingers in a painful bite that felt way too good with the adrenaline and dopamine running through Sonny’s body.  
  
Sonny continued to fuck into Dean’s rag-doll boneless body, Dean breathing hard and lying flat into the mattress, jerking forward every time Sonny slammed into him. It didn’t take long for Sonny to feel that building pressure in his balls, remembering himself just in time to pull his cock out, his come splattering across the boy’s naked ass.  
  
Still panting into the bedcovers, Dean looked beautifully destroyed – his skin dappled with an uneven pink flush; his hairline, hips, and the creases underneath his arms and knees dripping with salty beads of sweat; and the bow of his back and swell of his ass dotted and streaks with Sonny’s come.  
  
It was an image that wasn’t likely to fade soon from Sonny’s memory.  
  
He reached down to grab the towel he’d dropped on the floor earlier, using it to clean Dean off with before making a half-hearted attempt at wiping off the bedcovers.  
  
When he was finished, he lay down next to Dean, putting his arms around the kid who seemed suddenly shy in the aftermath of fucking. There was no way Sonny was letting Dean stay the night – he didn’t want Dean getting the wrong idea, and he’d meant what he’d said about this being a one-time deal. But for the moment, as Dean sighed and adjusted himself to fit snugly against Sonny’s chest, Dean’s warm body felt too good for Sonny to say anything just yet.


End file.
